I've learned the hard way, Grand Rapids: A handful of you are liars

I was glad to bring you the story on Father's Day about two men who have shared a lifetime of memories revolving around hunting and fishing.

Rather than a hoax.

But I have to admit that under other circumstances, I might have been taken in and told you instead the story of a man, now 70, who as a little kid spent just one full day with his father on a fishing trip, then awoke the next morning to find him dead of a massive heart attack.

I'm not going to share the name of the gentleman who tried to foist this story on you, on me, on the tens of thousands of readers who pick up The Grand Rapids Press every day or read it online and expect truth.

But you need to realize that from time to time, people call us or agree to be interviewed and then stray from the facts or even materialize elements from thin air.

Several years ago, I was hoodwinked by another man who professed to honor his wedding anniversary every month. I sat with him and his wife in their living room as he told how he doted on her with little gifts 12 times a year rather than just one. They held hands throughout the interview, and when I ventured that it almost sounded too good to be true, she stepped up to support his claim.

Turns out the couple lived for years with a second woman who bore Mr. Anniversary more than one child outside his marriage. And when she tried to flee him, he gave chase and ended up serving time in a Minnesota lock-up for attempted kidnapping.

On another occasion, I was taken in by a couple who claimed their car had conked out in downtown Grand Rapids and were at their rope's end with a young child in tow. They turned out to be scammers, living in the Holland area and using their story to separate compassionate people from their cash.

So when a man called with a story about having just one eventful day with his father, I was both intrigued and a little suspicious.

"It was a great gift to each other," he told me. "The greatest gift that we could have given to one another," and he detailed how his father had gone off to fight in World War II, returning when the boy was just old enough to create memories.

"When he left for the service, I was just a baby, and when he finally came home, I was maybe 6 or 7."

They went fishing, and the man recalled with supposed great detail a "lunker" he caught, and a man with a pencil-thin mustache who helped him haul it onto the dock while his dad was busy getting him a soda.

"I miss him, of course," he told me. "But that's just the way it is. Kind of sad. I don't think of it a lot ... but I just want my story out there. I'm 70 and have diabetes, and when you get a little older, you start reminiscing about the past."

A red flag went up, though, when he kept insisting that he didn't want "big headlines," preferring that I fold his comments into a larger story about Father's Day in general.

While checking out his tale -- which would include researching his father's death certificate, and going online to see if he had a record or had served time, something we do more than some readers probably realize -- I received a cryptic call, supposedly from my source's friend, saying that the man was lying.

In confronting the source, he came clean, but could only offer up as an excuse that he was "just horsing around."

I firmly believe that most of the people we connect with in newspapering are credible, truthful, honest.

But every now and then, people tell fish stories of a different nature.

Thankfully, due to a little vigilance and a little luck, this is the one that got away.